Forever?
by officialhermitsunited
Summary: Before the sun rises on the day the Marriage Law is passed, Hermione must marry the one person she can trust with her future. A new vein of Voldemort's minions infiltrate the castle, but what are they up to? Non-Canon from 6th book on. As this story receives follows and reviews, I'll post a new chapter!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Hermione sat outside with her Arithmancy text propped up on her knees. She replaced the stray corkscrew curls that drifted into her vision behind her ear, however fruitlessly, and continued to read, blind and deaf to her surroundings.

It was a rare day that wasn't too hot, or too cold, but that particular in between temperature that bespoke of oncoming rain. The air wasn't particularly humid, and the wind was still.

Things hadn't been going quite as well as she'd hoped.

It was her seventh year, and she had been prepared to finish out her education and move on to bigger and better pursuits. She had been told she would go on to change the world with everything on her favor, but with rumors of a new marriage law circulating in the Ministry, there was little hope for her future now. The Dark Lord was entwining himself with the Ministry slowly, and with all the new legislation about muggleborn and Muggle involvement with the Ministry, it was only a matter of time before Voldemort began to marry off important muggleborns to his faithful death eaters to keep them on a leash, and she was sure she was high on that list.

Stretching, she marked her place and got up, brushing her skirt off, wondering what the boys were up to.

xxx

He watched her pensively as she walked towards the front door of the Castle.

"What are you thinking old man," Severus fumed, whipping around to stare Dumbledore in the eye, "You can't possibly expect me to do this! It's an absolute farce! We'll all be miserable!"

Dumbledore's bright blue eyes gave him that x-ray look, seeming to examine him for a moment.

"If you don't, you realize-"

"Yes of course I realize the consequences! You've undoubtedly gotten me into a corner from which it is impossible to budge, as you always seem to be able to do! I will be stuck for the rest of this war- for the rest of my life- in an unhappy marriage with a girl, _my student, _who does not even like me on a professional basis!"

"Which I may remind you is your-"

"Yes it is my fault, because you've demanded it of me! They cannot like me; I cannot seem in any way lenient to them, I am to be their enemy! And now what, marry that child-"

"She is of age, and an adult by most accounts, if not all. You will marry, and you will live within the same quarters while she completes her education, after which she will graciously accept a position as a curator and saleswoman for the bookshop in town, and after a time will take over Madame Pince's position. It has all been planned for, and you will stick with it."

"Of course, but will she? Her whole future planned for her without her consent, what if she doesn't want to run a library with a bunch of unruly children running amok? Her abilities and freedoms limited?"

He shook his head, walking towards the office doors.

"Who's going to tell her?" he asked quietly, his back to Albus.

"I will send for her, the decision has been made, and you will be wed in a secretive ceremony in the days prior to the passing of the Marriage Law."

"I will fetch her, and bring her back; she needs to know as soon as possible."

xxx

Harry had her in a headlock while Ron mercilessly tickled her, his fingers dancing over her sides.

Ginny came down the girls dormitory stairs, grinning, and got Hermione out of it, none of them any the wiser that Professor Snape was less than a floor from them.

"You lot are worse than Fred, George, and Charlie at Christmas!" she exclaimed, pulling Hermione over to the love-seat, and re-arranging her messy hair.

"So how is your essay coming along, Ronald?" Hermione asked him pointedly, as they'd been discussing it prior to their tickle fight. He groaned in protest.

"But 'Mione, it isn't due until next week-"

"Yes, but we have potions tomorrow, and I'm sure Professor Snape will have us do some great feat of essay writing history and you'll not have the time to do both!" she told him in a very mothering tone.

"Speak of the devil," Ginny said, her eyes on the portrait hole, which was swung open to reveal an uncomfortable looking Professor Snape.

"Miss Granger, your presence is requested in the Headmasters Office."

Harry and Ron were both turned in their seats to watch him.

xxx

"This will most likely take some time," he supplied quietly as she approached earshot.

With an eyebrow raised, Granger turned to her cohorts and said "Don't wait up for me if I'm late for dinner."

They were silent as they traversed from one tower to the other, Grangers smaller footfalls echoing with his own around the halls as he tried to calm the storm of thoughts in his head. _What will he tell her, what will She say, she'll probably cry, how am I going to handle this with her friends, with Minerva, with The Dark Lord? _They went into the room with the spiral staircase and the house point's hourglasses, and as he'd allowed her in first, he had to grab her arm before she set foot in the staircase.

"Miss Granger," he said, looking her directly in the eye, bowing his head slightly, "what is about to happen is not of my choosing. We will- I have not asked for this to happen, neither of us have our lives in our hands, not any more. He will tell you, and that will be final. I can do nothing."

xxx

She stared at him somewhat dumbfounded at his seemingly nervous, but quiet speech. _We?_

Hermione felt him release her arm, and continued up the stair lift, thinking on his words. She entered the large office, sitting in one of the two chairs offered in front of the headmaster's desk across from him and his wall of portraits. He looked grave, but not nearly as grave as Professor Snape as he stiffly took his seat.

"Miss Granger, I'm sure that you've heard of the rumors of the Marriage Law; the one which is meant to bring the number of magical children to a higher number, and attempt to raise the number of intermarriages between muggleborns, half bloods and pure bloods?"

Hermione was beginning to feel faint. She didn't dare glance at her Professor. Now she understood why he'd been called to fetch her. His speech made sense now. The "we" he'd meant had not been himself and Dumbledore, or himself and the staff, or the order, it was referring to the both of them.

And then it clicked.

"Oh," she whispered, looking helplessly at the old man before her. "When?"

"It will have to take place before the end of next month, preferably sooner in the event that it is passed quicker than expected."

Despite her resolve, she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Okay," her voice broke slightly. She saw the proffered handkerchief in her peripheral vision, took it with a quiet 'thank you', and swiped at her wet eyes and face.

xxx

"I am to assume they expect at least one baby?"

Severus was surprised Granger had raised the question, but then, he supposed, it was her business after all.

"Yes, the exact details are not known, but at least one within the first three years. You will be expected to live together, in and out of the castle. For the duration of the war, I will need Severus at a moment's notice, and so he will need to teach every semester the war continues."

She nodded again, swiping at the new tears.

"How are we to bypass the age restriction of 1132?" she wondered.

Looking surprised, Dumbledore replied "The time added in from your third year, and your status as the second eldest of your year solidifies your eligibility."

She sighed. He waited.

"That will be all, I suppose, now all that is left is to set the date. I'm sure the two of you can convene at a later time, I expect the official announcement by next week."

"Of course," it had been the only thing he'd been able to mutter the entire time, the crushing weight of what was going to happen numbed by the fact that he'd never had a choice anyways, so how could this be any different.

xxx

She mechanically stood, walking out after Professor Snape- _Should I be calling him Severus now?_- and rode the stairs back down into the little room, the door to Dumbledore's office shutting firmly behind her.

Her chest was heavy, and she was forcing herself not to sob as she shook slightly with every breath. Her whole future was gone. She had no more ability to reckon her fate, as it would all be decided for her; every little detail of her world, now in the balance of three men, two battling for control over her- _fiancée_. She choked on a sob as the thought slid across her consciousness.

He turned to allow her out, but instead she threw her arms around his middle and sobbed quietly, but did not know why she would seek comfort from him at all. The first warm body, she supposed later, but at the moment it did not matter.

xxx

He awkwardly laid a hand on the upper middle of her back, not knowing what to do as he had had little experience with dealing with weepy women, especially not ones who were his soon to be wife.

He heard her whispering into his chest: "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you were forced into this. You shouldn't have to be involved, having your life intruded upon by some unwanted permanent roommate."

Severus flinched as she rubbed the side of her face on his robes, almost trying to cuddle him, something he most definitely was not used to.

Then she retreated back a few steps, seeming to come to her complete senses.

"And I've intruded upon your personal space," she shrunk back from him, like she was waiting for him to snap at her. Strangely, he felt no venom for the young woman before him, only a slight twinge of pity.

"There is no need to apologize; you'll undoubtedly be doing that from now on."

She nodded, swiping at more tears and blushing.

He led the way through the Gargoyle exit and towards Gryffindor Tower.

"When do you intend to tell your friends?"

"Today, if at all possible. They should have time to get used to the idea. I'd rather not pass then one day and tell them I'm getting married that evening, and to dress casually. I shall endeavor to keep them from trying to blow down your door to strangle you, as I'm sure that would be troublesome."

xxx

He could not bring himself to snort.

"Good evening, Miss-"

"In sight of current circumstances, in private if at all possible, I would prefer you call me Hermione."

"Then good evening... Hermione."

He left her at the portrait hole, striding towards his dungeon home and bottle of firewhiskey he'd be having for dinner.

He could not believe how well Granger had handled herself, although he was not disappointed in the area of her suffering, as he was sure she would.

Severus entered into his room, took off his coat and robes, sitting in his shirt and trousers in his old, nearly thread bare armchair before the empty fire grate, the mantle and shelves bare of all personal articles save his most important books.

Summoning the bottle of fire and a tumbler, he poured himself a generous portion and drank it in one gulp, glad for the numbing of his mind and the fire in his throat.

_Wife? Wedding? Marriage?_ Prior to all this business with the law, he wasn't about to even entertain the thought. Not only would no woman look at him twice except to scowl properly, he would not allow some soft hearted foolish notion of love and happiness enter into his perfectly solitary life. Granger, Hermione, would be just as miserable as he, he supposed, and might attempt to make the best of it.

She was an adult, and now that the door was irrevocably opened by none other than his own boss, he would have to begin to think about sex. It was the biggest taboo among the teachers, that one did not entertain or act upon desires towards ones students, and it was law that if you were caught, immediate Azkaban sentence, no questions asked. It was a delicate matter in the olden days if someone ended up being betrothed to ones student by ones parents, wherein it was customary that one waited until their final year to court, but never to marry immediately, only after graduation. This was unheard of, and as he'd learned had only happened four times in the duration of Hogwarts as a school.

What was he going to do?

xxx

Hermione strode into Gryffindor Tower, staring straight ahead as she made her way over to where Ginny was sitting, and took her hand, quietly leading her up the girl's steps and into her Head Girl bedroom.

"Hermione, have you been crying?" Ginny asked as soon as the door had been closed.

She nodded, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, Hermione, what happened, did Snape make you cry? I'll hex him for you if that'll make you feel better," the red head told her long time friend and confident.

"Actually, he didn't, but it involves him. Ginny, have you heard about the Marriage law they're trying to pass at the ministry?"

"Yeah, Dad told me about it, why?"

"Dumbledore is afraid I'll get forced to marry some awful death eater I guess... so I have been betrothed… to marry Severus Snape within the next six weeks."

Ginny was stunned to say the least, but then in a comet of red hair, she had her arms wrapped around Hermione's neck.

"I don't know what to say, I'm so sorry Hermione! How are we going to tell Ron and Harry? Oh my goodness and we have to find you a dress, and only a few weeks, my God what does Dumbledore think he's playing at giving you so little time?" She leaned back a little, looking worriedly into her friends flushed face.

Hermione laughed a little, Ginny was one to be worried about her dress.

"I don't know. I just needed to have someone to talk to about it; I want to wait until next weekend to tell the boys. By then I believe we should have a date settled."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for your expedient reviews and favorites, you know who you are, and it is to you that I dedicate this next chapter, long winded as it may seem. Remember, even if there's only one reviewer, some anonymous guest who leaves random words and emoticons, I will continue to write.

Chapter 2

Hermione sat across the desk from him, obviously doing her best to look agreeable.

"November the eighth, then?" she suggested, looking at the muggle style calendar booklet before her, quill and inkpot in hand.

"Yes, I suppose that will do, I'll tell the Headmaster. Are your parents coming?" he heard himself ask.

"No, I've faked their deaths, they're in another portion of the world now without a clue who I am," she mumbled, writing in the date of their marriage, and from that apparently calculating other dates for mundane tasks like dresses and the like. He felt his stomach getting anxious for food. Why had he sacrificed good meal time for grading papers?

"Will _your_ parent's be coming?"

He paused, pondering his answer.

"My mother, most likely, will want to meet you after she finds out about all this."

Hermione looked up at him for a moment. "I'll be glad to meet her."

She continued to scribble, nonstop. He thought the oddly white lighting in his office made her hair look darker than he'd remembered last seeing it in the Great Hall at lunch under the many candles. The sky was dark and saturated, ready to rain as hard as possible at any moment. And that was the color of her hair, just then in the gloom. But wasn't it some shade of brown?

"What sort of gathering do you think this will be?"

"Ah, to my knowledge The Headmaster has spared us the gaudy carnage of a gigantic wedding thrown by the female part of the staff, Minerva in the lead, and has decided to spirit us and a select few confidants to a remote village on the coast wherein we will be wed in a small muggle church, no service."

"Thank goodness," she replied with a sigh that could be taken as relief and scribbled around some more in the book.

"When is your birthday?" she asked him simply.

He stared at the top of her head where she bowed over the edge of his desk.

She looked up at him, eyebrow quirked. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes."

She continued to look at him somewhat incredulously.

"Well then, out with it! I won't go telling all and sundry, I just need to know so I don't miss it."

He mumbled it, hardly at hearing level, knowing she'd weed it out of him one day and deciding to forego the experience. Why had he been forced into this? What had he done so horribly wrong to deserve such a punishment as being eternally chained to the bossiest swot ever born to the universe?

xxx

Hermione was determined to tackle this business of getting married to who she was sure was the most austere, stubborn human being on the face of the planet like any other issue she had been made to face, with determination and organization.

His office was not the kind of place she wanted to spend much time in, and seeing as there weren't many papers left on the barren old desk before her, neither did he. She supposed that in the horribly lit room, his eyes would be ruined at a relatively early age attempting to grade papers.

She wondered about her things, as it had been made clear she would be living with him under direction of the Ministry so as to increase their chances of producing offspring. Apparently they were mostly hoping for someone to lose control or some other nonsense, and that would definitely not be happening until long after she was out of school.

"When shall I move my things into your quarters?"

"The Thursday prior, I suppose," he drawled. His tone made her toes curl.

"I am trying to make this as painless as I can. The absolute least past saying 'I Do' that you could do is try not being such an awful pessimist about this," Hermione told him sharply.

She wrote in the booklet on the seventh about her wardrobe move, and wondered what his rooms looked like, she'd never been inside a teachers living quarters. Hermione decided it would be best not to push him too far this week.

After a few ticks, he seemed to cool off after her reprimand, wisely holding his tongue.

xxx

"We ought to make an attempt at getting to know each other, and I need to see what the inside of your rooms look like so I can prepare myself accordingly, how does next Saturday sound?"

"Fine," he replied, watching her dainty little hand flourish over the pages, glad to have something to look at besides the French plait in her hair and the ingredients on the walls.

She allowed a small smile and closed her book.

"What do you want me to wear?"

"Something white I suppose," he replied. Of course, didn't all women dream of a white dress for their wedding? When there was no reply, he looked up from studying the varnish on his desk to meet her uncharacteristically solid, sardonic look. Her eyebrow had traveled up again.

"Allow me to reiterate: What do you want me to wear for _after_?"

Had he been prepared he would not have allowed the slight warmth to reach his face. _After_.

She didn't blush, so she must have thought about it. It had only been two days since they had been told, so she must have done a lot of thinking. In fact, now that he looked at her, she seemed not to have slept very well, but he couldn't say much as he had not either.

"Something black I suppose, make an effort, but don't overdo it. It's not a concern of mine."

"It is your concern whether you think it or not. I'd rather not make _it_ any harder on you than it has to be."

He looked affronted. _What makes her think I can't get it up whenever I need to?_

She snorted, shaking her head and stood to leave. It was a Friday afternoon, so she was in muggle clothes, which was allowed after classes. Her jeans were for the cool evening in the castle ahead, but he couldn't help but notice her figure because his brain was already bathing in the gutter.

"Hermione, do you exercise?" he blurted accidentally.

She looked back from opening the door, confused, and nodded.

He gave an 'humph' of recognition, and she left, closing the door firmly.

xxx

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he had been staring at her arse. It wasn't that she minded, it was just that she really minded _a lot_.

It wasn't every day someone of the opposite sex made any comment on her body condition, even one so round about as did come from her fiancée, but still she took it into account. She was certainly no muggle model, but she did take care of herself (_at least between exams _she thought sheepishly).

She listed to herself the many things she and Ginny would have to get. She certainly needed a white dress, several sets of black under things, and possibly some new night pants.

What were his tastes in decor? Probably not quite as dark and menacing as his office had been, barren as it was.

She would have to talk about the blankets and sheets if they weren't at least made of wool, because even in the summer at night the dungeons were cool and she could not sleep cold.

Making it to the main floor, she caught sight of a crown of blond hair retreat around a corner, but ignored it, shrinking her calendar and placing it in her pocket.

Hermione contemplated what she would be wearing when they were wed. A white dress was not hard to come by in Hogsmeade, as the seamstress witch who lived above the tea shop would be happy for her business, and would probably be happy to fit her.

She made her way to the owlery, writing her request for an appointment on a spare piece of parchment in her pocket and sending it off with one of the school owls.

When she turned around, she saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle blocking her escape route.

"What do you need?" she asked them plainly, not in any mood for dealing with the likes of them after having had to deal with her future husband.

"Oh, I won't need anything after a while. You see, Mudblood, in a few months, you'll be all mine."

Hermione's spine stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

"Surely with all your 'brains', you can figure it out." He was smirking with all the pride of his eighteen years. "You have heard the rumors circulating about the new Marriage Law, and the changes in Ministers recently, haven't you?"

Hermione stared at him. The Malfoy's planned to marry her off to Draco? She couldn't imagine that lasting too long.

"That wouldn't work out so well, you see, because if you touch me, I'll probably have to kill you-"

"Oh please Granger, you think I'd even want to lay a finger on your filth?"

She groaned, scrubbing her face.

"I've had about enough of your nonsense, and it's been a long day, so budge up so I can go eat dinner."

Malfoy scowled, about to pull his wand, but then moved immediately as Professor McGonagall came up the steps accompanied by a weepy first year holding a little owl that looked like it had recently been healed from an attack, bandages still on its left wing.

"Not getting into trouble up here, are we?" she asked the four of them.

"Oh, not at all, Professor," Hermione replied, using the opening to escape through the gap in the three Slytherins rank and went to the Great Hall.

She made her way in the flow of other students taking their seats, nodding at Professor Snape discreetly as they made eye contact before sitting across from Neville and Ron.

xxx

He watched her covertly throughout the meal, finishing two helpings of soup and bread in no time after having missed lunch earlier that day.

"So Severus, I hear you're getting married soon?" Filius Flitwick whispered to his right.

Severus forced himself not to choke and swallowed his mouthful of bread.

"Yes, unfortunately," he replied, his tone raspy, and took a sip of water to help things go more smoothly.

"I'll be signing as a witness, along with Minerva and Albus. I'm terribly sorry you've got to go through with this, but by all accounts I'm glad it's you and not some abominable, cruel minion out to kill the poor girl."

Severus sighed. "It doesn't make it any easier."

He spotted her, the mass of curls tamed into its plait betwixt a pair of red heads, and pondered on whether or not she had told them, and what it would do to her if they left her.

xxx

Hermione woke up Saturday morning, dreading having to go get fitted for her wedding dress. The Seamstress had replied with exuberance, and Hermione was due in her studio as soon as she set foot past Filches guard. Ginny had happily decided to go with her, and they trotted up the steps warily, ringing the bell system.

A stumbling sound and the mewling of a cat was heard before the door opened to reveal a young witch a little older than Hermione who was in an apron with needles and thread all over it.

"You must be Miss Granger! Come in, come in! I'm Brandy, this is my shop, and I'll be fitting you today!"

Hermione and Ginny entered, hanging their cloaks on the coat hanger and going to where the woman was pulling out large books full of wedding dresses and their designs.

"Now, what are you looking for so we can get started?"

"Something simple, I think, it won't be any sort of big production, just a short ceremony. I want to be able to move, so nothing constricting," Hermione told her, looking to Ginny for ideas, Brandy already going through the book thirty pages per second, scanning them quickly.

"Can I get your measurements? You wore the clothes we talked about, right?"

"Yes," She replied, undoing the front of her robes unabashedly to reveal the simple white shorts and white tank top.

After she had been measured, Brandy went back to the book and flipped through it at a slower pace; seeming to have found the section she was looking for.

"What about this one?"

Hermione looked at the faceless model with a simple up-do in the equally simple white dress. It was elegant, classy, floor length, and she liked the plain shimmery ruffled bodice.

"Why not?"

Ginny came over to look at it and nodded on approval, seeming to be impressed by Brandy's skill at showing the right dresses.

"This one is special, I can charm the material to stay together in the back, and give you a charm to make it come undone so it comes off easier," Ginny's face went red at the implications of that statement, but Hermione's face remained impassive. "The Bodice will have to be a little tight because you don't have a particularly heavy chest, but it will still look great. Shall we begin? Would you please step up on the pedestal?"

Hermione stood perfectly still with her eyes closed and felt the silk slip over her skin in all directions and become the form fitting bodice and it's skirt, and she heard the 'whoosh' of a summoned mirror and opened her eyes.

"It's perfect," Ginny said, admiring the beautiful dress, and the seamless design.

Later, they sat in the Three Broomsticks, the dress and under things discreetly wrapped in brown packaging.

"What do you expect it'll be like, being married?" Ginny asked, sipping of her butter beer.

Hermione was eighteen and allowed to drink whatever she wanted, so she had a small tumbler with a shallow amount of Firewhiskey.

"I don't know, Ginny," she replied quietly, sipping lightly at the beverage and allowed the fire to drench her throat and dull her aching mind. "I wouldn't believe for a second it would be like either of our parent's relationships, at least not with Severus. He's been my teacher since I was a little girl, so I suppose he'll be feeling guilty about that, everyone believing he's only in it for a young woman in his bed," she sipped again.

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Have you been in his rooms yet?"

"No, I'll be there to scout it out next weekend, then the weekend after that I'll be meeting his mother."

"I didn't think about that. Do you think she'll be... you know, alright?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. His tone suggested she'd be glad he'd finally found a wife."

xxx

Severus appeared in the apparation chamber in disguise. No one was to know he was there.

He slunk out to the front counter of the jeweler and slipped him a piece of paper with the requirements he needed in the ring. The goblin looked it over, and directed him to a set, the man's rind just a simple white gold band. The woman's ring, however, consisted of two bands, the engagement band and the wedding band, which fit together perfectly and were apparently meant to go together on the same finger.

He nodded, paying for it upfront with his money purse, which had an undetectable expanding charm on the inside. He poured out the needed galleons into the weighing pot, and as it reached near to the right point, he started scooping it out with his hands, finally reaching the proper amount. He was glad at this point Albus had insisted on covering all costs of the wedding.

Walking out of the store with the three boxes tucked away in his pockets, he disapperated to the front gates of Hogwarts, a look of deep concentration on his face.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the students were beginning to filter back into the school from their trip. He spotted Hermione among them with a red head, most likely the youngest Weasley, and he strode over to fall in step with them. He spotted the brown package in her arms, and raised an inky brow but did not comment.

xxx

She felt his presence as sure as she was breathing as he approached, matching speed and direction with Ginny and herself.

Hermione remembered what Brandy the seamstress gave her, and she passed a copy of it on to Severus to keep until the right time.

_"Say this incantation to undo the fabric: undōnkleid"_

He didn't quite understand what it meant, but he kept it anyways.

"I need to speak with you this afternoon before dinner. Can you be in my office at 5:30?"

She nodded quietly, offering a small smile, although she didn't seem quite pleased.

In his office he waited, his fingers steepled over the little black box before him. He looked around, the jars of things floating about. Not quite the proper setting for what he intended to do, so he walked into his own personal quarters, used his wand to tidy things up a bit, cast a light cleansing charm on his hair, and went to the hearth to stoke the fire to make it a little less chilly.

Shedding his outer robes in the new heat, he tried to brighten things from their gloomy state, lighting the small chandelier hidden in darkness to reveal the rarely looked at frescoes on the ceiling telling the story of one of the old magical folk tales from when the castle was originally being furnished.

The living room portion of his quarters wasn't particularly large, and there was a rarely used baby grand piano sitting in a corner he hadn't spared a glance at recently. The plethora of books on the walls were all full of old potions and dark arts knowledge, and even lost secrets he'd boarded for himself in his efforts to help vanquish the Dark Lord.

It was all boring to him, the plainness of the layout and impersonal furnishings, and he knew it would need a change. He hoped having a woman in the atmosphere would make it better.

Hearing finally the knock of his betrothed on the door in his office, he streaked past silently, collected the black box, put it in his pocket.

He opened the door slightly to see who to was, admitting her at once and closing the door behind her.

Severus took her hand, leading her into his chambers before she could ask any questions, the fire now making the rooms more comfortable, and watched in amusement as she looked around in wonder at the books and piano, finally being drawn up to the paintings on the ceiling.

"My goodness, Severus, you've got the best living room I think I've ever seen in my life!"

Severus was suddenly very aware of her hand in his. He hadn't even thought about grabbing it, but looked to her face to see if she didn't mind.

He saw her eyes; the chandelier lights reflected in them, and decided he wouldn't mind waking up to it, although he figured it might be somewhat less pleasant just waking up. It would take time to stop himself from instinctively trying to strangle her, but he'd have to learn.

She looked back over at him, blushed under his intense gaze, and looked away in what he assumed was embarrassment.

He paced a finger on her chin, and turned her face lightly back to him. Hermione's eyes flickered down to his lips, and seemed to be much closer to him than he remembered.

Her disarming look of slightly confused lust sped up his heartbeat ever so slightly. He felt every little change happen all at once before they were hardly a hairs breadth away, and all he could see was brown and black.

xxx

She had been hoping he would do this. She wanted to know what it was like before their wedding day, before they were stuck with each other for life. It couldn't possibly be bad, or at least not as bad as some of the girls in her year had joked it might be.

She had kissed only one other person in her life on the lips, and she'd only been a sloppy fourteen year old.

This was an adult. This was supposed to be different, although she didn't believe the odds were in her favor in the respect that Severus really didn't seem like the type to be particularly social, and from his attitude she would assume he had not been with anybody before, at least not for very long.

It was only a few light touches of the lips at first, his hand had left hers, although she didn't notice as she was somewhat preoccupied, and felt a warmed something thin and hard slide onto her finger.

She knew exactly what it was, but spared it no thought, her mind racing as she wrapped her arms around his neck lightly, pressing a little closer, and pushed to look for his invisible boundary.

His mouth was thin, and she had been able to see that at a distance, but she had expected him to be — well, she didn't know. Made of stone? Cold? Slimy? Unmoving? He was human, after all, not a bat or a rock. Severus' mouth was warm and soft like lips were supposed to be. A little cracked from the recent fall weather maybe, as she was sure her own were, but they were just as they should be.

He was being almost overly gentle, not in the least bit insistent, and was hardly even holding her, but he was responding and that had to be a good thing; had to mean she was doing something right... Didn't it?

His tongue met hers at the same moment, as they had apparently had the same impulse, and she found herself kissing him passionately, getting a little carried away.

He smelt and tasted divine, her first true kiss, and she couldn't get enough. They were pressed together, and to get a better hold on him from him slouching and her on her tiptoes, she instinctively hooked her knee over his hip, knowing full well that had he not already been about to marry her, this would not be going so far.

After no time at all, they had moved elsewhere somehow, and seemed to be snogging much more insistently. They were on a couch, it seemed, or a chair? Whatever, that wasn't important, what was important was what his fingers were doing to her skin beneath her shirt on her back. She was on fire, and every little touch was just more fuel.

He had his lips on her throat and her eyes almost crossed, vision failing momentarily. She had made a noise, it seemed to be a moan of want to her, but he stopped; froze suddenly. He was about to sink his teeth into her neck, but she didn't know what else might have happened.

Hermione came to the conclusion that she liked it. It was not what she had expected it to be in the slightest, some awkward task that they weren't allowed to talk about later, but a real snog, which she now believed was what he'd needed all along.

xxx

She was lying with her back on his chest as they lounged long ways on the small sofa, twirling her fingers through the small hairs at the base of his skull, driving him to distraction. Never had he kissed a girl, a _woman_ so wantonly, and had she not alerted him to the fact of what he had been about to start doing, they may not have left the dungeons until the next day. He loathed to think what would have befallen them then.

He could tell she was still inspecting the ceiling frescoes, and he mentally smiled to think of her brilliant mind analyzing every portion of it. He was saving a personal inspection for a time when he could not leave, and took to thinking about what he was going to tell his mother.

Mum would have to stay in her cottage; there would be no bringing her to Hogwarts. She was sixty one, still batty as ever, with the Prince House elf helping her garden in the huge jungle of plants and small woodland animals she had accumulated since he had moved her there.

But what would she think of him springing this hardly a week before she was to meet the gir–woman. That, his common sense concluded, would not go over well, but with her pureblood manners in check Hermione wouldn't know the difference.

It was nearing time for dinner, and it would not do for them to show up together, _holding hands _of all things. Minerva would strangle him.

He noticed she was admiring the glinting of the engagement ring in the light of the fire.

"After all this, I don't believe you've been asked properly. About what you want," he mumbled close to her ear. He moved his arms from their place resting on her rib cage to allow her to flip over and settle comfortably back onto his chest.

"What do you want?"

He shifted a little and felt his brow furrow. What did she mean?

Oh.

Did she deserve a real answer? Would she rat him out to her friends? Have them all make fun of him? One look in her eyes told him how foolish that notion was.

"I want to... not be alone."

Hermione blinked up at him. She obviously had not expected to get such a blunt answer.

"That's fair enough. I don't want to be alone either, and I'm afraid that if I marry someone else at this point, someone who isn't – well, you, then I would be alone forever. I might not get to stay at Hogwarts, or speak to my friends. I might not get to read when I want to, or be able to say 'No' on rare occasion without being beaten; too many possibilities. We can get through this, you and I."

"Most will turn on you. You're my student, barely of age, they'll make you out to be all sorts of the worst things, ask the worst kinds of questions. I'm a Death Eater, however 'double agent' that status may be. It will be awful; you won't be spared much for being young... it'll be just you and me against the world."

His voice grew quiet. "Could you stand it, Hermione? Could you stand to know that I'm it, the only one to look forward to in the future? Could you stand to know that you will be bearing a child, _my_ child, in very little time? That most of the people who see and respect you now will scorn you?"

She was quiet for a tick or two, mulling over his words.

"I won't pretend I don't care about all that. No matter what I do in life I'll be ridiculed in some way, Malfoy Junior will see to it if no one else will. I can stand it, maybe not at first, but I'll get over it eventually. As long as you don't abandon me, I won't abandon you, deal?"

He looked for any sign of insincerity there could be had within her, and found none.

"Deal," Severus replied, half smiling.

"Oh tin-man, you do have a heart," she referenced, grinning at him as he stroked her lose crazy hair, and her words reminded him of something, but he could not place it.

"Isn't that from an old movie?"

xxx

Hermione grinned wider. "The Wizard of Oz."

She felt like she was in a dream.

Kissed him lightly; got up; fixed her hair and clothes; turned left; up flights of stairs; right; left; through the doors; into her seat next to Ginny, who successfully shielded them from Ron's splatter of pumpkin juice, and silenced him from loudly commenting on her shiny new ring.

Hermione didn't care; she'd be breaking the news to them that evening, but she would enjoy the moment.

She ate peacefully without a word as Harry launched them into the topic of their next game.

It would all be well, in the end. She was sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: To the anonymous person who said "Starting off well, if a bit fast. I like it." I will have to agree. Sometimes the beginning of these things is long and excruciatingly detailed, and I wanted it to fly by in a rush like it would in real time. I also didn't want to linger around the details of the weekdays spent in class studying like mad, so I took to describing the weekends, and used that as my primary time structure.

This story has gotten views and visits from people all over the place I never would have even dreamed of, in a rising total of 30 countries! And that, my dears, is exciting!

Thank you all so much for the follows (over 15!), the favorites, and the awesome reviews! Now, on to the story, Allons-y!

Chapter 3

Hermione had all three of them with her in her rooms, looking at her expectantly, and all sitting on the couch while she stood before them, twisting the foreign feeling ring around and around her finger. Ginny was between Ron and Harry, Ron looking uncomfortable and Harry looking downright suspicious.

"Um… Well, there's a law," she began quietly, afraid of the boys' reaction. "A Marriage Law, to be precise, that Dumbledore has told me will be put in action sometime in late November, possibly earlier." She pretended to be quite interested in the floor somewhere between herself and the couch, and absently fiddled with the lose seam on the side of her shirt, truly despising having to say anything at all.

"To protect me from entanglement with an abusive Death Eater, whose only directive s to keep me in check and away from all of you, he's prepared a way for us all, especially me, to avoid the guaranteed catastrophe."

Hermione spared a glance up at them. Ginny was determinedly steadfast, looking ready to defend her honor to the death. Harry was getting paler by the second, Ron still working out her words.

"Okay, so then who do you have to marry?" Ron asked finally, his brow knitted together in confusion.

"You're not going to like it, and you have to promise not to yell at me or run off and try to kill him, it's not our fault, or Dumbledore's. Promise?"

With two nods, she told them. "I'm marrying Professor Snape."

Ginny had quickly cast a charm on the door to keep Harry inside the room. He was pale as a ghost, and fuming mad, babbling about all sorts of inane things. Ron still looked somewhat blank.

At Harry's bad reaction, she felt tears spring to her eyes unbidden, and fought not to sob.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER YOU SHUT UP AND SIT RIGHT THIS MINUTE OR I WILL MAKE YOU."

He looked more afraid of his raving ginger girlfriend than angry at Hermione then, and sat, looking both sheepish and uncomfortable.

In hindsight, Hermione thought Ginny had sounded very becomingly like her mother in that moment.

"Snape, eh?" Ron said finally after the silence, standing slowly, seeming to be working something out in his head. "I would if I could, you know that, Hermione, but if a Death Eater has to have you, it'd be him. And, hey, if he mistreats you, I know where to find him to set my mother and all my brothers and sister on him."

xxx

Seeing as how Hermione was already... well acquainted with his living room, he led her into the private potions lab with his own private stock of special ingredients.

Next was the bedroom, which he determinedly led Hermione through, explaining swiftly how he'd be happy to have her a wardrobe brought down to be put next to his so she wouldn't have to deal with her old trunk anymore. He made mention of expanding the room and size of the bed, because now that he thought about it, his was a bit too narrow for the both of them.

He introduced her to the large bathroom he had, which had been furnished with a black opal bath tub built into the wall, and a relatively modern shower with a drain in the floor. No curtain.

Finally, Severus walked her through the small kitchenette, which he had requested for the summer holidays when no one was around to bother him and the house elves brought him ingredients occasionally so he could cook his own meals.

They sat at the little table, hardly big enough for the two of them, and had tea.

"How did your friends take it? I saw Potter staring at me somewhat vengefully a few times this past week, looked like he wanted to strangle me more than usual."

Hermione sighed into her cuppa, sipping some more of the calming liquid.

"That's basically all he thinks about this. Ginny has known for a while, and she helped, but oddly Ronald was very wise about it. In a round-about way, I think he approves, but only because he knows he can sick his entire family on you because he knows where you live nine months out of the year."

Severus snorted, poring both of them a bit more.

"There are windows like these in the Ministry, aren't there?" she asked, staring at the windows in front of the sink and admiring the meadow beyond it swaying in the breeze. Of course, this was impossible without magic, because they were several stories below ground, but even Severus could not stand to be stuck in a hole _all_ the time.

Unused to being in his rooms with another person, especially sitting at the tiny table in his kitchen, he didn't know what else to say.

Hermione, however seemed to know what she was doing, and stole one of his hands to trace about his scarred palm. Her fingers were lukewarm from the mug, and he shivered as she traced along the lines and digits.

"Did you get a reply from your mother about next weekend?"

"Yes, a Howler no less. She yelled at me for ten minutes on proper decorum for 'courting' and the like, and then very gently said that 'it would be lovely to have you and your fiancée over for lunch, I'll have the house ready by noon'."

Hermione snickered at his higher pitched portrayal of his mother.

He half smiled at her response, trying not to laugh himself. Why was he being so loose around her? Well, he thought, there's no real call to be uptight and terrible either, is there? We'll be married in less than a month's time, and she doesn't need to have her whole existence ruined by some acerbic old arse, and it's not as though I'll be like this with anyone else.

xxx

Hermione observed Severus as he stared at a speck on the table's surface, deep in thought and now lightly grasping her hand.

She took this moment as a short time to inspect him without the limit of seeing him as an authority figure.

He had taken time to cleanse his hair as much as he could before she had arrived, and it was noticeably healthier looking. The jet black locks seemed to be wavy instead of straight and wilted as they would normally be around the castle and in the classroom.

His nose, however… different it was, was no damning thing to be scorned. It gave him a very… well it just fit him, to be honest.

He had a very thin mouth, which she'd thoroughly investigated not too long ago (the thought made her blush), and found it to be Outstanding.

She had just gone over his hand, and it seemed appealing enough. Somewhat claw-like with the long thin curved digits and relatively average palm; there were scars running across small portions of his fingers, no doubt from working with over-sharp knives in the past, and he had well taken care of nails, short and thick.

xxx

He was shaken out of his reverie when she brushed her calf against what she hoped was his leg, and earned a raised eyebrow.

She grinned slyly at him, gave a flirtatious wink, and stood.

He stared as she flicked her wand at the chair, and he heard it scrape across the floor as it was turned to face her.

She then leaned forward and kissed him.

_This_ he had _not_ expected. Instigation? Maybe some, but he had never dreamed of coercion through _seduction_. Of course, a willing eighteen year old did not have to try very hard to seduce him. Oh no.

She sat in his lap, kissing him much slower than last time.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about their wedding night. It seemed to him that he wouldn't have to try very hard at all.

When she had put herself back together, and hidden the hickeys on her neck and collarbone, she bid him farewell.

He was sitting on his broken kitchen chair against the wall, after having had his shirt ripped open for the first time since he'd gone into cardiac arrest in 1976 in a room full of muggles who did something with a shocking device.

Never had he been touched like that before either, her small hands ghosting down his chest and lightly teasing- he couldn't think about it, or he'd go mad trying to figure out _why_.

Why would she want to do… that? Obviously he did, or he wouldn't have nearly started doing something _highly inappropriate_ the previous weekend.

But why did she want _him_? She was not obligated to have feelings for him, or try to make anything work, but there she had gone diving headfirst like a brash Gryffindor, probably without thinking about it, and instigated another of their little _sessions _where things heated up, even if it was only for a half hour.

He supposed intimacy was important in a relationship they were bound together in for the rest of their lives, which as a witch and wizard had the ability to last for another century and a half. That seemed at the moment to be forever, but if she was willing to try, who was he to stop her? Even if his life did not last the rest of the war (he had come to terms with that possibility in its beginnings), he'd get as much out of it as he could.

xxx

Hermione had a new spring in her step as she made her way up to Gryffindor Tower, and ran into Harry on his way in the opposite direction.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked amicably enough.

He shrugged her off, walking broodingly on past. She frowned. He was still getting over the news, and she couldn't blame him, it was big for her to be marrying the man he might hate nearly as much as he hated Voldemort.

Hermione shook her head and continued. Harry Potter, Chosen One or not, would not be allowed to put a damper on her mood.

Heading towards the Portrait Hole Entrance, she was surprised to find a gaggle of people standing in front of it, and could hardly see what was going on above their heads.

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore brushed past her to diffuse the crowd, and she caught a glimpse of the writing on the singed painting.

Her good mood vanished in an instant.

"MUDBLOODS BEWARE"

The Fat Lady was no more; her painting was destroyed before she could escape the fire and knives that had etched the image permanently into the frame. It was replaced by Sir Cadogan and his fat pony, _again_, and another more suitable picture was being sought after.

Professor McGonagall had announced to them that no student was to walk the corridors alone, and in the case of muggleborns to choose travel partners of differing lineage.

Great, she thought, now I can't even go where I want on my own time. How am I going to get to the library?

She brushed her hair out, recast the glamour over the love bites on her neck, and settled onto her bed for a good read through of the next chapter in her Transfiguration text.

Immediately following the opening to the first page, a House Elf popped into her rooms, bowing so low its floppy ears and large nose touched the floor.

"Master Snape sends his regards, and has asked this memento be delivered to his person."

He had an unusually human like quality to his voice, and Hermione stared at him for a moment before opening the letter.

"This is Alfonse, the first House Elf in the service of the 'noble' house of Snape. He will apparate you to your desired destinations to stop you from being inconvenienced by the current threats to the Student Population. I am aware of your adversity to 'slavery', and so I found an elf who could not find proper work due to his education by his late previous master. Call on him when you need him."

Hermione stared again at the elf, wondering what Severus had meant by Education.

"Alfonse?"

"Yes Madam Granger?"

"Call me Hermione please," she mumbled, unsettled by the resemblance to how people had once addressed her awful grandmother. "What kind of education do you have?"

"I have been schooled in the arts of English Literacy; I read at a high level even among humans, and write legibly in both cursive and Calligraphy. Through my ability to read, I am currently studying both Potions and the Dark Arts to please my master."

Hermione was stunned.

"Who was your master before Severus?"

"Mister Jard was a retired Muggle school teacher who married a witch that was gifted my service upon my birth. I served with them until his death, wherein he kept himself sharp by teaching me the fine arts and dynamics of English Culture."

"Well, I'll certainly be glad to have you to help sir! Do you know the castle well?"

He was blushing from her use of 'sir'.

"I am well acquainted with its most important features, yes. A fellow servant by the name of Dobby claimed to know you wand was happy to escort me about the premises."

She watched him for a moment, noticing his clothes.

"Where did you get those?"

He was wearing a pair of tailored black slacks, a button up shirt with little pearl buttons, and a dark blue vest, complete with pocket watch.

"My last master had to send me off after the death of his wife so he could move in with a muggle acquaintance of his, and decided to send me of in style."

He fished it out, snapping it open and checking the time with his large amber eyes.

"It was nice to meet you Madam Hermione, but I will have to be going now. Master has determined that I should help him rearrange his room for you. Good day," he said, bowed again like a perfect gentleman, and vanished in a crack of smoke.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N_: Thanks again for your wonderful reviews and follows! _**The M rating will come in to effect soon, and if somewhat explicit intimacy is not your thing, the three O's will be your ticket to the end of the trail for you until the next chapter, which I will endeavor to post shortly after this one. In skipping the intimacy, you will not be spared any plot, and this will be one of the relatively few times an explicit scene surfaces of this nature. **_

Also, I would like to thank you for liking my OC, Alfonse! I was afraid you'd think him outrageous, but I'm glad you like him.

Allons-y!

Chapter 4

Hermione was almost humming with nervousness when she met Severus at the front entrance the weekend after the incident with the Fat Lady's Painting.

The entire week she'd spent popping to and fro with Alfonse, allowing Harry and Ron to hitch a ride occasionally. The scare had made many of the kids in the younger years even more afraid, and the Slytherins had been egging it on, though demonstrating their un-involvement, all to Severus' chagrin.

They were off to meet his mother, a week from their wedding and counting.

He pulled her close, making sure he wouldn't lose her mid-apparate, and picked his destination.

They stood on a path at the edge of a large meadow out in a forest, with a small cottage in the middle and a jungle growing out back. In other words, it was his mother's house.

They walked towards it arm in arm, and he was belatedly glad she had worn robes, but not her school ones.

xxx

The front door opened to reveal a woman at the peak of health. Her hair was up in a bun, the same color of black as her sons. She was not the one to have passed along Severus' nose, but her stronger jaw line certainly had. She had soft dark blue eyes, and a kind smile, but she looked a bit concerned as she swept over Hermione's form with her eyes and then snapped back to Severus in almost… approval.

"You must be Hermione," she said warmly, taking both of her hands and felt the wards accept her.

"I'd hate for you to get incinerated by my son's overprotective measures, we haven't even been properly introduced. I'm Eileen Prince; you can call me Eileen, I'm very pleased to finally meet you."Hermione smiled at the acceptance, glad somebody besides Ron and Ginny was on her side.

Leading them through the house, Eileen showed Hermione all the rooms, and then led them out to the back Garden.

The word garden did not cover it, as she seemed to have a whole isolated forest of plants both foreign and domestic, most of which she had either seen alive in Herbology or sliced in Potions.

There were young trees, and several plants around the edges that were ferocious enough and large enough that they could have eaten all three people at once and not batted a leaf.

"Don't mind that lot; they're really just big babies. If you pet them dead center of their heads they act like puppies," Eileen said, noticing Hermione's hesitation, and showed her. The gargantuan plant actually bowed in acceptance to its gardener and made an almost purring noise as it got attention, ruffling its foliage. Hermione was amazed.

"Is this where you've been getting the plant ingredients we use in class?" she asked Severus, inspecting a patch of Umbrella Flowers hanging from an unusually tall bird bath

"Yes, actually it- _Mum_!"

She turned at the exclamation to find Eileen with her long thin lightly colored wand on Severus' jugular, and found the source of his instant fury.

"_Severus Snape you didn't tell me she's your student!_" she seethed. "Hermione, if he's forcing you into anything, I'll fry him on the spot," she told her plainly, not taking her eyes off her cowering target.

"Oh please don't," Hermione begged, "if you do I'll have to hide out here for the rest of my life!"

Eileen dropped her wand, but was now suspiciously looking from Hermione to Severus.

"What else haven't you informed me of, _dear_?" she forced out between her teeth, glaring at Severus with eyes that could melt steel.

xxx

Severus was glad to have been spared his mothers wrath, and was staying quiet, allowing Hermione to do the talking while dodging awful looks thrown his way as she made tea and prepared sandwiches for lunch to keep her busy.

"So they'd put you with the likes of Mulciber just to keep you on a leash? I met him once, and he's still got the scars to commemorate the event I guarantee it," she mumbled, sipping her tea with all the properness of a societal centered upbringing.

"I'm sorry about all this Hermione, and I'm well aware that doesn't help much. I know marrying your teacher must not be the greatest prospect, but it could be worse," she nibbled at her turkey on wheat, watching the two of them on the other side of the table like a hawk.

"The Hogwarts staff has been almost completely renewed since I was there many years ago, and they were getting Ancient. Albus Dumbledore was my Transfiguration Professor at the time, and he was the youngest if that's any reference," Eileen supplied, making Hermione's nose scrunch up. He'd never seen her do that before…

"In any case, as your mother-in-law, I am at your disposal. Anything you need, you just ask. Even if tall-dark-and-brooding needs a good whipping into shape to break through that thick skull of his, I'm your witch." At this Hermione snickered, which made Severus scowl, and that made her laugh even more.

Eileen smirked in satisfaction. He scowled deeper.

xxx

In the week before they were due to wed, Hermione had the worst dreams.

Once, Severus had morphed into the Dark Lord and raped her in front of an entire congregation of Death Eaters who laughed and scorned her (she'd had to seek comfort for that one).

In another, she was marrying a younger Albus Dumbledore, who smiled at her before they kissed and then turned into an unruly baby she was being forced to nurse with dry breasts, who then turned into one of the man-eating plants from Eileen's back garden chasing her around the chapel while Eileen herself shook her head in disapproval sitting next to her parents who looked confused. She would never mention it.

In the one on the night of the sixth, she awoke cutting a huge cake after a gaudy ceremony in which she had been passed down an aisle of hopping trapeze men, and finally told to kiss a toad that turned into a wrackspurt.

_Nerves must be getting to me_, she thought drearily, heading to breakfast on the morning of the Seventh.

Alfonse had been there with her every time she'd woken in a fright from one of her dreams with calming reassurance.

"Madam, you must stop allowing your fear to get the best of you! Although I've seen how your situation may be of some disquiet to your subconscious, I'm sure Master Snape will take excellent care of you whilst you are married. If not, you may command me to set him ablaze as needed!" Hermione giggled at this, hugging the short well dressed elf.

"Thank you, Alfonse. I'm sorry if I keep ruining your handkerchiefs!" she exclaimed, looking at the pile of them she'd used cleaning up her exasperated tears.

"Ah, worry not, Madam Hermione, these happen to be your fiancées, I'm sure he'd be delighted to know they've been of some use, as I found them in his closet while cleaning."

Harry was still refraining from talking to her about his outburst, or anything more personal than passing the Pumpkin Juice, but he was no longer giving Snape a look that could have rotted the hair off his head, and that was an improvement.

Ginny was giddy with excitement approaching the time of the wedding, despite the fact that she would not be attending the ceremony, and Ron was silent but supportive on the matter.

That evening after dinner, she had Alfonse help her move her things into Severus' room so she could personally put her things away into her wardrobe he had provided in her room.

xxx

He stood unnoticed leaning against the door frame of the bedroom, watching Hermione methodically fold, hang, and organize her wardrobe. There was more coming out of the school trunk than he imagined could fit in it, and he wondered if there was an undetectable extension charm on it.

When she pulled out her winter boots and then a large tub full of winter gloves, he was sure of it. He watched as she put several of the same charms on the drawers and stuffed all the unneeded items into them. It was amusing to him, watching her mutter, rip something out, and then reorganize the entire thing. It seemed like she was trying to organize it all by length _and_ color, but the system was faulty due to her lack of camisoles in blue.

"Having fun playing with your clothes?" he asked quietly.

She jumped, the wad of knickers in her hands flying everywhere, making him laugh heartily.

Picking up a pair at his feet that was particularly pink, he waved them around on one finger, smirking at her as the similarly colored flush spread across her face.

"I may, one day, grow fond of your under-things, but these will not do," he told her, shooting them like a sling shot right into the open drawer she was about to put them in.

"I haven't gone through my clothes in months, and I wasn't exactly planning on needing to get more adult looking knickers, it's not like anyone was going to see them."

He shrugged, taking a seat on their newly expanded bed as she directed the fallen garments by magic to fold and go into the drawer.

xxx

Hermione finished unpacking, making sure she had enough left in her own rooms to last her until they left the following evening. She hadn't moved her bathroom items in yet, as she would still need them for the next several nights.

Severus had shed his outer robes and cloak, sitting gracefully on their bed in a white button up shirt tucked into his black pants and black boots. He was leaning forward on his elbows, legs crossed, and in doing so he was strangely handsome.

She sat down next to him.

"How have you been?" she asked, leaning her shoulder against his.

"Fine, I suppose. The Dark Lord is not aware of what will happen and is sure to be furious with me, but I will appeal and turn it around as best I can. He won't kill me, he intends for me to continue my infiltration of the Order, and will no doubt wish to meet you, but I cannot guarantee the odd times I may be called away."

She placed her head sideways on his shoulder, sighing at the complicatedness of it all, and twined her hand between both of his, which were clasped together.

"Do you have any contraception for me?" she asked him plainly.

"There is no need; I have taken care of things on my end. When we've discussed things and you've approved it, I will take the antidote and allow things to go from there. I will not force a pregnancy on you, especially not while you're still in school. It is your body and your choice when you're ready to have a child," he said gently, thankfully not taking it wrong.

She nodded, and flopped back on the soft mattress.

Severus looked around and seemed to smile slightly with his eyes, lying back next to her in a somewhat more dignified manner.

They faced each other, the sounds of light breathing dominant, electricity beginning to crackle in the air as she saw his eyes glint.

OOO

She sidled up to him, pressing her forehead against his, and closed her eyes.

His soft thin lips pressed against hers, and she responded in kind, running her fingers over his wiry arms and chest as he slipped his hand under her blouse. His long thin fingers and flat palms brushed over her stomach, around her back, and hugged her to him as he kissed her more insistently.

She moved her hands up to thread her fingers into his light feathery hair, found herself beneath him, and felt the heat build in the small space between them along with the excitement.

Hermione feverishly tried to unbutton his shirt, finally succeeding so she could run her fingers over his chest and abs, the fine hairs slick to the touch. He stood at the end of the bed, propped up on his elbows over her, and kissed her neck softly. She brushed her hands lower, exploring the darker coarser hairs near his hips and accidentally brushed over the erection forming in his pants.

xxx

Growling, he pulled her by the hips down the bed to meet his, and she gasped, which turned into a moan as he ground into the apex of her thighs.

Soon, her shirt was gone, and he worked the clasp of her bra to come undone, slipped it off and flung it away.

Severus immediately went to work on her creamy white breasts, sucking and licking to hear her passionate moans and sighs, almost lost in the bliss of her skin against his.

She had kicked off her shoes and worked her socks off, now unbuttoning her jeans and attempting to shimmy out of them. In his impatience, he jerked them off her himself while trying not to hurt her, and was rewarded with the wetness of her knickers and a steaming look of lust mixed with something else he could not place. Before he could recover, she had scrambled back to the headboard, motioning him to follow with the crook of a finger.

He was completely naked as he scrambled up the bed to kiss her, expressing his want thoroughly and positioning the both of them comfortably, her long wild hair fanned out on the pillows beneath her.

Hermione was responding to his ministrations perfectly, and he wouldn't be able to stall much longer.

"Severus, wait," she whispered as he dimmed the lights somewhat before casting his wand off to the floor with their clothes. "I haven't done this before."

He laughed quietly, kissing her neck. "I'm aware of that, my dear, don't worry about a thing. Are you ready?" his voice was husky as he whispered in her ear.

"_Please_," she whispered urgently.

"It would be my pleasure."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: For those of you who've forgotten or simply skipped that part (or are daft), they've just had sex. A bit of cursing in this chapter, but I've avoided the worst of it.

I couldn't decide what small town in England would suit the three places they go, but the UK is my second biggest visiting country, so maybe someone has an idea, maybe it reminds you of somewhere you've been? I can leave it nameless, that's not pivotal, but it would be nice.

Again, thank you so very much for your reviews, they mean the world to me, and I shall endeavor not to disappoint you!

Allons-y!

Chapter 5

Hermione woke in a slightly sore state of bliss, and felt her face grow hot as she remembered why. The muscles in the lower half of her body ached in a good way, especially the muscles she hadn't used before.

In the dim light of the candles, she saw the clock, and when she moved her head she roused her companion who was currently spooning her from behind beneath the duvet in the cool of the dungeons. His skin was nice against hers, and she was so utterly relaxed she didn't want to leave, but it was nearly seven, and she needed to get up before it was too late to go to her own bed.

Severus relinquished his hold on her, smiling drowsily and rolled over to stretch. Hermione only put her discarded plain robe on, kissed Severus lightly, said her goodbyes, and called for Alfonse.

In her own room (which she was thankful for in light of her Head Girl status), she got into the shower and washed herself thoroughly, somewhat surprised to find the dried blood on her inner thighs.

Hermione Granger's Virginity was officially gone. Lavender would be jealous she'd been beaten to the catch by the least likely candidate.

Through, she walked to her nearly barren wardrobe, and dressed for her last full day in Hogwarts as Hermione Granger. She fixed her hair to the best of her ability, straightened herself up, noticing her inability to stop smiling as she passed her mirror, and went out the door with her head held high.

Breakfast was nice and quiet because it was still so early, and she was prepared. Her homework was perfect, she'd looked it over the day before, and she was ahead in her reading for the following weeks' classes; she was sure she wouldn't be able to get any done over the weekend. She'd already gotten used to thinking of herself as Hermione Snape; because when she got back she would have to start putting it on top of all her papers.

She didn't have Severus' class any more, and therefore would not have to worry about a scandal erupting over her grades given by him for that year. She'd changed her course of action over the summer from Healer to Clerk (also known as undefined); she didn't enjoy her messy internship with Madam Pomfrey over the holidays.

Classes were normal, nothing of true note, and she refrained from raising her hand but twice when absolutely no one else seemed to know the answer. During lunch, her friends were subdued to Neville and Seamus' confusion, which was fine with Hermione. Another quiet meal was perfect for her mood. She didn't look at Severus once, except when they passed in the hall.

xxx

He had awoken to the stirring of his lover, who looked to be anything but regretful of their actions the previous evening. Stretching, he watched her lazily as she hardly clothed herself, grabbed her wand and kissed him.

"I'll talk to you again this evening I suppose. Thanks for last night, Have a good day, take all kinds of points off Gryffindor for me, will you? _Alfonse_!"

She disappeared as he began to laugh. Never had he been asked to take off more points than he already did, and he would be happy to oblige his fiancée, and had taken off a total of two hundred and thirty points due to all kinds of fumbling and whispering during his Potions classes that day, three couples he found snogging, and ten students who were running in the halls. All in all, it had been a decent day, his stress alleviated by his late night activities, and his spirits lifted by the upcoming nuptials.

Minerva was staring at him like he has a second head that morning, but that was of no consequence in his mind.

Bag packed, future wife in tow, confidants bringing up the rear, his mother due on location shortly prior to the event, and Dumbledore in the lead, the muggle dressed troupe marched to the gate ready to use the portkey to arrive at their destination.

Upon their arrival, around the bins in an alleyway no less, Dumbledore directed them to the hotel across the road. There were already rooms booked for them, and they went to them immediately. Hermione had been given the large suite for the first night, Severus and Minerva shared a two bed room, and Filius and Dumbledore in another. The twenty four hour pub hardly a half a block down the sidewalk was sufficient for their food source until their departure in two days.

They could taste the sea in the air as they made their way up the stairs, settling themselves in their rooms before dinner to put together their game plan for their return.

xxx

The rooms were plain, just a simple setup enough for the comfort of two people, small appliances for convenience were scattered about, and it had a very fresh, clean feeling in the white wall paint and blue duvet.

Hermione stared at the gigantic bed for a moment before someone knocked on her door. She opened the door slightly and let Severus in. He looked about for a moment before he sat back down in the plastic chair near the window.

"How are you?" he asked, closing the blinds with a flick of his wand.

He was wearing muggle clothes, a black shirt, dark jeans (which were very becoming on his long thin legs), black loafers, and a black trench coat (London Fog by the looks of it). He was bouncing his leg and had a strange look about his face.

"I'm fine. How are you? You seem nervous, do you want some tea?" she asked him, looking worried.

"No I don't want any tea," he mumbled, scrubbed his face with his hands, popping out of the char and began to pace.

"Severus you really should try to calm down a bit, what's the matter?"

"I'm getting married tomorrow, didn't you hear? To my student, none the less, lovely girl, but I have no idea what I'm doing! We've been thrown together against our will, and although it seems as though things will be fine, I cannot understand at all how I'll get through this, how we'll survive! She's headstrong and witty, and I'm sure she'll get us through this, and I may get to help some," Hermione grinned at this, "but even then! I'm getting married! I never once in twenty years thought I would ever marry, not even left to my own devices! I mean just look at me! I don't know how she stands me."

He ruffled his own hair, messing it up horribly but launched into it again. Hermione sat down in the chair, readying herself for more.

"I've got one master next door who breathes down my neck every so often to 'pay of my debts to society for my past' but quite frankly I think I've done quite enough having to protect Boy Wonder and his sidekick, her friends no less! My other master," he jerked up his sleeve, staring at the black tattoo (a skull with a snake twisting about and coming out its mouth) on his arm. Hermione had seen it the previous night, but didn't pay it much mind. "He is most likely going to torture me for a hour, then make me deceive everyone, use my new wife to kill Boy Wonder and affiliates, then kill her so he can rule the world!"

Despite Hermione's faith in his abilities and her assurance that things would eventually work out, she understood how all of that was entirely overwhelming.

She also felt sorry for him. Though she wouldn't say it out loud, he reminded her of Harry, the eleven year old who thought he could take down a full grown wizard; the thirteen year old off to save his friend because it would be too late if someone else did; the fifteen year old with a dead godfather and the entire world on his shoulders to kill a Voldemort that now existed in the public eye; a seventeen year old who had a haunted look in his eye like the man before her, the burden of their tasks too much to expect of a singular being, but still carried out.

"Then there's the whole issue of having a wife! My parents are no example, my father the drunken Muggle idiot who got my mother pregnant by accident, then forced into a marriage he did not want, neglecting everyone and everything except his gin until his murder by said wife to ensure the protection of said pregnancy! What If I become him? What if I'm no better than that when all is said and done? We _have_ to have a child, and I have no idea how to raise a baby?! The idiots I have to teach have made me well sure that I do not want a child in the least, but still I _have_ to. The ministry-"(he used a few choice words Hermione did not know but got the gist of their meaning with his hand signals) "but I can't tell her that, now can I?" he said in a seething tone, glancing up at her expectant face. He sat on the edge of the bed, cradling it in his hands.

xxx

"I can't do anything! I can't enjoy our marriage and act on it or I'll seem like a pervert after his young pretty tart, but I can't hate it either and act on that hate or I'll ruin her whole life!"

He shot up again, fists balled, talking more to himself now than to her.

"Fuck it; fuck it all, I'll do what I want! I'll marry her if she says 'I Do' and I'll damn well enjoy what time I've got on this rotten God forsaken rock, the Ministry can have it up the arse, I don't care, and they can all rot in a hole! I'll kill the Dark Lord with my bare hands; I'll overthrow the damn Law, and I'll move to some happy little island where I can live out my days with my pretty woman, a million books, and endless fishing!"

Severus let out a bark of laughter, looked up into Hermione's incredulous face, grinned, which made her even more incredulous, bordering on afraid, and brought her up from the chair into a breath taking hug, then kissed her thoroughly.

"I was supposed to come in and tell you we're going to dinner in thirty minutes if you'd like to join us, but there can hardly be five left of it."

Hermione smiled a little bemusedly, walked to the dresser and got him to come over. He stared at her as she brushed his hair back into its proper position.

"So I'm lovely, eh? Your pretty woman, then?" she teased him, grinning.

"Of course you are," he said bluntly, looking at her like she had three heads. "What are you on about?"

Hermione blushed magnificently. He stared.

"I thought you knew you silly woman," he whispered in amazement.

"You try to find a nice schoolgirl, not some vain arse bitch, who believes she's pretty and show me. I'd pay," she whispered, blushing still.

"Well, I believe that among the two of us you're definitely the looker. I was under the impression that you were aware. Those boys in your year, they've been staring at you for weeks like they'd never seen you before. I thought you had seen them."

"No, actually, and I suppose it'll be fun for all of them to find out they'd been beaten to the draw by you. And don't go discounting yourself either, Mister 'I'm so awful I could melt a mirror'," she said bossily, hands on her hips. "You can't expect to keep making me feel better by making yourself feel awful. We can work through that in a bit, I believe I hear Dumbledore about to knock."

xxx

Over dinner, Dumbledore brought up what he would be doing after the ceremony.

"I shall have the papers signed and ready, and at the break of dawn on Sunday, I trust the two of you can consummate everything by then, I will spirit the documents discreetly into the registration office to be signified by the Clerk, and then slip out as unnoticed as possible, probably invisible, and return to fetch you all home to Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded absently, and finished off her Shepherd's Pie (nowhere near as good as the Hogwarts House Elves made).

The pub was small and cozy, with dark furnishings and stark lighting. The bar had worn stools, and there were several different tables with old comfortable chairs, and the jukebox in the corner reminded Hermione of her grandfathers collectible in the corner she would stare at as he showed her how it worked, the collectible records playing with ease as they waltzed clumsily to The Beetles.

She realized everyone was looking at her expectantly as she drank the last of the milk in her glass.

"Hm?" she inquired, looking somewhat confused.

"Do you agree with all this?" Minerva asked.

"Well I don't suppose it matters very much if I do or not, does it. I don't mean to be rude or ungrateful about anything because believe me I am eternally in your debts for doing this for me, even if it is all ultimately for Harry and his eventual fulfillment of the prophecy. It's just that, well, it will all happen even if I say nothing at all. It has to, there is really no other way next to obliviating me and sending me off to work for my Parents new Dentistry in Australia is there?" she replied quietly.

Filius smiled at her. "No, there isn't, but your consent makes all the difference in the world. A marriage forced in scorn is the worst kind. A marriage consented in even the worst of circumstances can be mended to be better."

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews!

To the anon with the hate: You don't have to read it, and I'm pretty sure nobody is making you. There are a lot of positive comments, and I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing. M rating isn't made for just sex.

I have a question for you all: Do you want music to go with this? Just a thought, if you're adverse to the idea, say so, but if not, tell me what you'd like out of a good playlist of things I listen to sometimes while writing. Also, if you have music you think would fit parts of this story perfectly, PM me and I'll listen!

Happy reading and Happy New Year! Allons-y!

Chapter 6

Severus stood across from the priest in the office of the little church that evening, who was working out with Dumbledore the paperwork and fees and whatnot. The arrangements were made, and Severus signed the needed things, nodding as he was led into the chapel to wait on a pew until Hermione was done with her part of the papers. Filius and Minerva were already there.

He turned as he heard the door to the Chapel creak open, and saw Hermione enter with his mother, with her hair pulled back in a very becoming manner, wearing a pretty, shimmery white gown. However somewhat plain, it was suitable. He remembered the paper she had given him weeks prior, and incantation he had memorized. Now he saw what it was for, the dress was seamless, and would need the incantation to be taken off at all, wedding night or not.

Severus handed her the plain white-gold band to keep until time, and scooted down closer to Minerva to allow her room to sit until Dumbledore and the Priest were finished.

xxx

The Church was as plain as the pub and hotel had been, with a simple rectangular design, stained glass windows, and burgundy pews lined up on both sides of the center aisle.

Hermione was on one knee (now thankful Brandy had made the skirt very roomy and flexible) grasping Severus' pre-ringed left hand, staring him in the eye.

"I Do," he intoned after the confounded priest was done reading the script.

"And do you, Hermione Jean Granger, swear to uphold the sanctity and ruling of your marriage as partitioned by the British Ministry of Magic, and to stay with your husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do ye part?"

"I Do," she echoed, now watching their hands curiously. They were almost glued together by some magical force. She liked the way her rings were meant to be as one, and it had been chosen in good taste.

Dumbledore, joined by Minerva and Filius, stepped forward and raised their wands at the joined hands.

"Do you, the signified witnesses, pledge that this matrimony is sound, and will uphold it as lawful in any court of law, prepared to testify accordingly should it be brought into question?"

"We do," they replied together.

Tendrils of magic zapped out of their wands and curled around their clasped hands in an almost Celtic design.

"Then by the power vested in me, given to me by the one true God, I pronounce you Husband and Wife."

Another band of Magic flowed from above, with no known origin, and surrounded them in an almost fiery display of magic like rope and chains to bind their hands (and lives) together both legally and magically.

They stood, hands still clasped.

"You may now kiss the bride."

It was a light kiss, just enough to touch lips for half a second and withdraw.

Their hands were no longer glued together, and a blinding light surrounded them for a split second, then it was gone and they were finished.

"Very good, now, if you all could please direct yourselves to the pub down the street, I will finish handling things here and we can be on your way."

Severus led her out to the pub by the hand, catching several eyes as they crossed the road to get to it. He was in an actual fitted suit, now unbuttoned at the front with a loosened tie, but he was definitely dressed oddly to be walking into a pub. Of course so was she, white gown and all, but she didn't want to think about that.

He sat her down in a table for two, off to get whatever he could from the bar tender. Surprisingly, they did have wine, red wine to be exact, and it was the color of blood as he poured it into their glasses and clinked them together in a toast. It tasted alright, a bit too frivolous for Hermione, but it was good.

Hermione saw Eileen wink at her as she walked down the road to find a spot to disapparate from, and blushed.

She hadn't paid any attention to where Minerva and Filius had gone off to, or if Dumbledore was back yet, she couldn't take her eyes off Severus. They talked quietly, mostly, as Severus had explained, to make the others suspicious, but she didn't care.

They talked about living together, and being permanent roommates of a sort. They talked about the magic behind the ceremony, how the best kinds of wine were made, and his choice in their rings.

Finally, when all three of their watchmen were deep in conversation, all turned away from the couple, Severus took Hermione by the hand, and they snuck out.

He took them down an alleyway, then apparated them directly into her rooms.

She woke up sprawled across the huge hotel bed with Severus at about midday, sated and relaxed. He was stroking her hair, as he'd gotten it out of its style sometime during their… activities, and he'd whispered that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known along with many other pleasant things as she had fallen asleep. By then, Dumbledore had already taken their papers to the Ministry, and they were Professor and Mrs. Snape.

They got in the shower together, too tired to do anything but wash each other and grin shamelessly at their _thoroughness_.

In the Pub, they had sandwiches and coffee for lunch, the others nowhere to be found. Minerva had left a letter detailing their early departure back and the success of the filing of the documents.

Hermione walked back into the Hotel to collect her belongings so they could leave, and realized what a mess it was. The bed was chaotic, the table broken, chairs toppled, pieces of Severus' suit all over the floor because Hermione had been too impatient to take it off the normal way, and her dress lay in a pile of white fabric on her shoes. The specially bought black lace bra and knickers were hanging on the ceiling fan because Severus was waiting for her to catch her breath and wondered if he was still in practice, which also succeeded in making her laugh.

xxx

At Hogwarts, they went down to their rooms, and found Alfonse had already moved the last of Hermione's things to their rooms.

She decided they would make no formal announcement, simply let it leak out.

They had returned to harsh, overbearing reality, and it would not be long until Severus had to face his Master with the news, but for just that day, they sat together outside in the sunshine after the recent bought of storming, enjoying the birds and the like.

That evening before dinner, Hermione went up to Gryffindor Tower to see her friends. Harry still didn't say anything, and chose instead to give her a pained look, but Ginny fussed over her ring and Ron gave her a hug.

"I suppose you've moved out now, have you?" Harry asked quietly during a lull in the conversation.

"Yes, I have. My old room is completely bare," she replied. "I haven't gone through some dramatic change by getting married, you know, I'm still your Hermione, you just have to share me with another person besides Ron and Ginny. That's all. I don't expect you to be mates with him, but at least be civil. If you've nothing nice to say, please don't say anything, and everything will work out fine. If he gets too snarky, I'll whip him in to shape for you, or sick his mum on him if I must."

Harry nodded, rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, and repositioned his glasses.

"I'm sorry I've been a prat lately, it's just that, well, you know, it's Snape. We haven't gotten along since we first laid eyes on each other, and I'm not about to stop now just because you're with him. I'll try if he will, but there'll be no promises. I can't believe you've had to do this, but I won't abandon you if you don't push me away, alright?"

"Hey Hermione, where have you been all weekend?" Seamus and Dean asked her from the boys' stairs.

"I got married," she told them with blunt honesty.

"To who?" Lavender butted in with envy. Everyone in the cluttered Gryffindor Common Room was listening now.

"Severus Snape."

The silence in the room once bustling with Gryffindor noises was choking her.

"Is it because of the Marriage Law they're passing next week?" one of the sixth years asked.

"Yes."

She earned sympathetic looks, some still scornful.

"I'm sorry Hermione," Lavender apologized quietly.

"Yeah. It'll be alright, though," she said with conviction.

"If you need anybody to beat him up, we'll help, you just say the word," a fourth year piped up, earning nods from all over the room.

"Thank you, guys, it really means a lot. I was afraid you were all going to _hate_ me," she whispered, tears of relief falling.

"Nah, my parents heard about it and they've gotten me ready to marry Hannah Abbot, she turns eighteen the same week as me," Dean replied in sympathy.

"My older sister is moving across country to marry her best friend from school before the law is enacted, she didn't want to be stuck with some fifty year old Death Eater who'd beat her," one of the muggle born fifth years said quietly.

Hermione swallowed and shuddered at the impact of the Law. She hadn't thought about all the people who'd be forced to marry and have children, and so soon.

At dinner she sat in the empty seat provided between Severus and Minerva, which began uproars of whispers, especially from Slytherin, but Gryffindor immediately quelled most of it with looks that detailed the opposition's ignorance of what was going on.

Hermione ignored these and jumped into the conversation between Minerva and Severus on the most recent muggle attacks.

xxx

Severus knew etiquette very well, and knew that the best time to address Slytherin would be that evening. He led Hermione, their arms linked, to Slytherin House in the Dungeons.

She looked very interested in the décor difference, and he imagined she'd never been in another house. The entire House was in the cavernous lounging common area, dead silent, all eyes on the two of them.

"Slytherins, I have claimed this woman as my wife, Mrs. Hermione Snape. You will address her as such, and with the _utmost respect. Is that understood_?" he told them, with a note of warning in his voice.

As one, in a testament to his control over them, they replied "Yes Sir, Professor Snape."

He felt rather than saw Hermione smile somewhat warmly at them, only receiving the barest of smiles from the first and second years.

It was past midnight, and Hermione was still sitting in their living room in front of the piano, staring at it. Severus was watching her just beyond the doorway of the bedroom concealed in shadow, unusually unintimidating in his blue striped pajamas.

Finally, after having put her sheet music on the stand hours ago, she began to go over the scales of the piece, from the lowest to highest octaves and back.

Seeming to lose her gusto, she seemed to shake her head, and stow the sheet music in the hidden bench compartment before walking right past him into their dark bedroom.

"Severus, are you awake?" she whispered, not a foot from him.

"Quite," he replied, startling her.

She turned on the light, and smiled sheepishly before changing quickly into her own night clothes.

Severus raised an eyebrow, looking at her. "What side of the bed do you prefer?"

She looked stumped. "I really haven't thought about it. Which one do you like?"

"I've only ever slept in a single bed myself. I don't believe we dictated which side was to be which the last time we were in here, so maybe we should just get in and see how we like each side…?"

Hermione nodded, agreeing with the idea.

"Alright, I'll be on the left side near the wardrobe tonight, then. Maybe tomorrow we'll switch?"

"That sounds fine."

xxx

For the rest of the week, things seemed to be calm and quiet, the students were still giving them odd looks, but they stopped as the _Daily Prophet_ flew in on Saturday morning followed by a slew of Ministry letters for Seventh Years and the single younger teachers. Hermione was surprised that she and Severus received letters.

"_In obedience to Ministry Law, should you and your spouse produce offspring within the allotted time, you will not be remarried to another Ministry Approved Spouse. Thank you for your cooperation._

_Dolores Umbridge_"

Umbridge.

Of course that crazy woman was behind this. Hermione had heard that she was reinstated in the Ministry after what she was sure was plenty of arse-kissing, but truthfully Hermione wasn't surprised.

The older students immediately became more solemn, along with the teachers. Many of them may not have heard about the possibility of a Marriage law, but it was now in the hands of every person who needed to know about it. A copy was even on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_.

"_The Ministry of Magic approved Marriage Law is as follows: Due to a large decrease in the magical population of Britain, all fertile citizens between the ages of eighteen and fifty are required to wed [to a Ministry approved spouse] within a year of the laws effect on that person, and produce one magical child within three years of their marriage."_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: A bit of gore, there might be more of it later, but I'll see how this goes.

Thank you so much for your amazing reviews! I appreciate every one of you! Allow for me now to bring out a glorious Plot Device! Yaaay! Because I've gotten to the Plot, chapters may be longer, or may take longer to write, but I shall prevail (eventually, the longest wait should be two weeks)!

Any thoughts on the Music idea: Yes? No? Either way, I'll keep writing as the story goes on!

Allons-y!

Chapter 7

Severus had been waiting with baited breath as the slight tingle in his arm turned into a searing burning sensation.

He steeled himself; this would not go over well. He had not notified the Dark Lord in any manner of his engagement or marriage, and he would be furious. Severus continually worked over his Occlumency shields as he methodically put on his Death Eater robes and mask by hand. It would be particular unpleasant by the way the mark grew in its prickly fiery pain.

Apparating to the front gate of Malfoy Manor, he was greeted by Avery (who arrived at the same time) and they entered the gate together, walking up the gravel path in silence. The peacocks were still out, grazing in the dimming autumn light.

Many Death Eaters were attending the meeting that evening, Bellatrix practically throwing herself all over the Dark Lord.

He was ignoring her as per usual, and Rodolphus looked on in suppressed jealousy. Years apart in separate cells in Azkaban had changed them. Rodolphus had been pining after his wife most of that time, while she had mentally abandoned him, beginning to become obsessed over Voldemort.

Plans for a few small raids during the Holiday season were discussed, plans for another large initiation into the League of Hell (a step below the Death Eaters) and the Death Eaters themselves. He was asked to stay behind after the meeting was over.

The Dark Lord had not been kind.

Severus had apparently been looked up to ensure his eligibility for a Spouse provided by the Dark Lord himself, but he was furious to see that Dumbledore had beaten him. This, of course by some twisted logic-less reasoning, earned Severus a whipping by Bellatrix Lestrange with a cat-of-nine-tails brandishing red hot nails on the ends.

The pain was intense, and he felt every stinging scrape of the device, felt his flesh being burned and slashed, his robes torn to shreds along with his skin and muscle.

"Do you like fucking your little Mudblood whore? I bet she hates it! You're nothing, you half blood runt of a man, thinking you can best me at the Dark Lords side?" she screamed at him, slashing back and forth with fury and almost pleasure in her eyes.

Bellatrix tired herself out eventually, feigning sudden boredom, and he was out of screams, his voice unusable.

Why it was that she insisted upon using some medieval muggle means of torture at times confused him, but he would not think about it now as he stood rigidly before his master, back bleeding profusely still from his wounds. The pain was excruciating, but he tuned it out to a dull roaring in the back of his head. He could not afford to lose his control over his mental shields.

"Severus," he said in his high, eerie voice, "You are not usually punished by Dumbledore. Being forced to marry a young Mudblood and put up with her filth until I reign supreme is a high price to pay. Tell me, did you consent to this?"

"No, my Lord."

"_Do not lie to me_!" he hissed angrily, giving Severus a taste of Crucio, which sent him to the floor, flaring his wounds dramatically. "You signed, you said I Do to that little bitch, did you not? You _consented_."

He made himself stand once more, refusing to show weakness and wince before the vindictive psychopath. "My Lord, it was not my intention to be wed to such filth, it was Dumbledore's. I have solidified my position within the order as spouse to their beloved little chit, they will surely be more trusting of me, and allow me to be privy to more information," he appealed quietly, mentally crossing his fingers.

"Very well. Keep her on a leash; do not allow her too much freedom. She will have to be watched after she leaves the school, we cannot have her helping Dumbledore's farce of an Order defy my rule! Be gone."

xxx

Hermione rushed to the closed gate, tears already in her eyes as she saw him stagger forward towards Hogwarts. In the darkness, she couldn't see what was ailing him, but couldn't allow him to trudge on in his state.

"Severus, let me help you, what can I do?" she asked him, pulling out her wand.

"Take me to Madam Pomfrey, don't let anyone see me, and _don't touch my back_." His voice was hardly a whisper, and he winced with each breath.

She conjured a stretcher to have him lie down on, and cast a disillusionment charm on him to keep anyone's prying eyes from her husband's current state.

Hermione had nearly bumped into Filch himself, but had been able to round a corner in time before he noticed.

Madam Pomfrey looked surprised to see her. Hermione took one look at the unusually occupied hospital wing and drew her in for more private explanation. Immediately, they were rushed into a private room where Hermione lifted the enchantments and could plainly see exactly why Severus had said not to touch his back.

He was bleeding badly, but that didn't seem to be the worst of it. Some of his back muscles were hanging in strips with the tattered Death Eater robes, and his spine and ribs were visible in some places, stark white among the crimson blood spatter. The worst of it reached from his shoulders to his waist, and she was already surprised he wasn't dead form blood loss.

She was sure this was his punishment for marrying her.

Hermione forced herself not to be sick, and steeled herself against the nausea from the now pungent aroma of blood and seared flesh floating about the cramped little room.

Knowing she would be of no help trying to coddle him, she used her adrenaline for the better and set to taking orders from Madam Pomfrey to fetch things like blood replenisher, numbing agents, and skin re-growing potions. She watched in awe as the matron performed several complex spells, and seemed to reattach and repair the torn up muscles, and began the process of skin re-growth, before starting in on nerve damage and a few other things.

Finally, sometime after midnight, his back was repaired with minimal scarring. Whatever had been used to hurt him, it had spared his spinal cord thankfully, and he would lose no movement except that of his back muscles for a while until they were restored to their original strength. His blood was still being restored, and his scratched ribs would take time to stop throbbing, but he would be fine.

Dumbledore stopped by to check on their progress every so often, and sat down with Hermione while she consoled him. Severus was sleeping peacefully now with only a new pair of pants on.

"Why is he doing this?" Hermione asked quietly, brushing at the tears in her eyes.

"What do you-"

"_Why is he going through with this, don't play dumb with me,"_ she half hissed at him, hate roiling in her eyes.

"Because it was his mistake as a youth, he made his decision blindly and now he's paying for it."

"What could he have possibly done to deserve this? _He almost died today; it must be pretty damn awful."_

Madam Pomfrey bustled back in, setting out several potions on a table and explained what they were and in what order Severus should take them if he awoke before she returned.

Dumbledore's face was solemn. "You know of the prophecy concerning Harry's fate, do you not?"

She nodded once, waiting for the matron to finish and leave.

"I was not the only one to hear it when it was first given. Severus did as well. He only heard half of it, but he is the one who gave that half to Voldemort, and it is because of that prophecy that Harry's parents died and orphaned him."

"That was not your story to tell old man," a raspy voice said. Severus had been awake the whole time. "It was _my_ idiotic youthful mistake. Had I known that it was they who the prophesy spoke of, I would not have taken anything about it to the Dark Lord."

Despite her sudden terror, Hermione still took compassion over him and summoned a glass of water for his dry mouth.

"She needed to know," Dumbledore replied.

"Maybe," Severus said after gulping the liquid down, "but in my own time, not yours. She is _my_ wife after all. You promised not to say anything, and you've broken it."

"I apologize, but I cannot afford my newest bright mind to turn on me. What else would you have had me do?"

"It's fine," she whispered quietly.

Severus looked at her from his prone position. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I am. I can't hold you ransom for your past. Obviously you're doing what you can to rectify your mistake," she breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. "I won't tell Harry, he'd never even think of trying to trusting you," she turned to Dumbledore, "but he'll need to be told after the war is over. You can't go on lying to him like you have, giving him bits and pieces, telling him only what you want him to know. He's an adult now and should be allowed to take charge of his own destiny. You've been going on like Severus is some sort of piece in a chess game, and I'll not have him or Harry treated like that. Your advice is useful, but you'll back them into corners where they've only got one option, like our marriage, and they will resent you for it."

She started to administer the potions to Severus, making sure of her exact measurements. "Through his actions, Voldemort created his own nemesis by following the prophecy's vision of a possible future, and made the only true antidote to his insanity. If Harry is kept in the dark, well, you know how he gets, he'll charge off without consulting anyone trustworthy and then ruin whatever plans you may have by trying to be the singular hero. He needs to be in the loop because hearing things through the grape vine tends to muddle the information."

Dumbledore was looking at her over his half moon spectacles, icy blue eyes seeming to x-ray her.

"I will think on your words, Mrs. Snape, and speak with you about them later. Good day."

Students were beginning to talk about getting married, and there had been three attempted suicides in the wake of the passing of the Law over three weeks; even the impending Christmas season wasn't enough to lift their spirits.

The Fat Lady's 'death' had also caused some disquiet, because the last time anybody had heard of "Mudbloods Beware" had been when a Basilisk was on the loose going about the castle. The memory of the thing gave Hermione shivers, and she would never forget looking into those awful cold evil eyes before she was in a coma like state for the rest of her second year until the Mandrakes had begun to mature, and Madam Pomfrey administered the antidote.

She and Severus were still on speaking terms, and she determinedly steered them away from talking about his past. She could not handle a heart to heart just then, seeing him half dead without a shred of muscle on his back was enough to tell her the war needed to end, and soon.

Hermione could deal with everything going on outside of the school when _she_ was outside of the school, but for now, there were classes, and N.E.W.T.'s, and being married, and the bloody war and all this bloody idiotic non-logic could sit in a corner for a bit while she attempted to make something of herself.

xxx

Severus stared at the large portrait he sat in front of, once the faithful guardian of Gryffindor Tower, now just a loose door, covered in tattered canvas and ancient paint.

"MUDBLOODS BEWARE" was etched into the surface, an old and worn out phrase from yesteryear, but unfortunately relevant.

He hated that word, hated it to the depths of its meaning. The logic behind its use was far too faulty for it to be sensible, but still it was something the Dark Lord relished to use. It was now obvious to him; the Seventh Years he'd seen instated into the League had been given a task. This would be just the beginning. What else would they come up with, the foolish children? It would escalate, he was sure of it.

No one would truly know of their identities, Voldemort had made sure of that. Those in the league were instated cloaked form recognition and with an invisible tattoo only the Dark Lord himself could sense, and did not have a Dark Mark. They were like spies, only worse, because they would not have to try to be integrated into their target, they were a part of the target: their fellow students.

But what was their mission? To make Dumbledore close the school so more Muggleborns could be killed with their families in their homes? Bring in children to overthrow the regime? Have more graduates following the Dark Lord for him to train?

He would have to look into it, but at the moment his back injury was keeping him from spying very well. The skin was tender, and he had to sit throughout most of his classes to keep from wincing and showing any sort of weakness in front of his students, who would surely cause a mutiny. Hermione was helping his recovery, ensuring he didn't have to do too much, keeping his potions in line and on time. Severus believed she would keep him going until the end, and he would protect her from anything that came their way.

He walked up to the surface and took out his wand. The scratched had been made by magic, not any sort of knife or tool he knew of (and that was quite a few), and he could sense something sinister from the surface, some underlying something.

He pressed his wand tip to the surface. Nothing happened.

He spat on the end of it and pressed it to the **B **once more, and jumped back, falling into the chair.

The scratches came off the wood, and became separate, making words in searing red before him.

"_The League sends its regards Professor Snape. We will allow them in. We will kill Him. You are useless. We are the power here. All will fall when the sun rises on The Ides of March. We 23 watch, we wait, and we will rise and strike. This is only the Beginning."_

He stared at it, then hastily took parchment and a self inking quill out of a pocket in his robes and wrote it down. Dumbledore would want to hear about this immediately.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: One day, you'll see the historic symbolism of the end of Chapter 7 but until that day, I shall hold my tongue. I'm aware I'm a bit late for Christmas, so I won't make this too Christmas-y, but I find it's easier to write these parts of the story when the holiday in question is not currently under way.

100 FOLLOWS! THANK YOU SO MUCH! And thank you for your reviews as well! There's music at the end for kicks, happy reading!

Update: Jan. 11th Slight change in the last part of this chapter, nothing else has been altered.

Allons-y!

Chapter 8

The Christmas holidays were fast approaching, and Hermione was glad that her friends had decided to stay over along with most of their Year, and celebrate their last Christmas as students. The snow fell across the grounds thick and fast for a week, before letting up to a light flurry, covering Hogwarts in snow up to Hermione's knees.

She had bought gifts for all her close friends, and of course, for Severus.

He was hard to think up presents for, especially because she hadn't asked what he wanted, because there was no telling what he'd come up with. As it turned out, he had a wicked (and sometimes vulgar) sense of humor.

Besides the obvious fact that he did not enjoy Christmas, he seemed to be somewhat distant as of late, like something was weighing hard on his mind.

Hermione was going to see what she could pry out of him over the three week holiday, but the final weekend before the break officially began and all the students were allowed to go home on the train that Sunday, Hermione gathered the assignments she was required to do (minus the reading, that could be useful for quiet days) and did all the essays, assignments, question-answer pages, and Arithmancy calculations she had been told to do over the break, which was quite a lot.

Severus would pass by her nest of papers, books, quills, and parchment, catch her between assignments, and force her to have something to eat and drink and simply sit quietly and relax. He looked somewhat worried about her, scolding her lightly for pushing herself too hard, but there was some resignation in his tone.

She had worked out that he was a lot like her in his youth, probably minus the friends and good company, and saw himself in her manic tirade not to sleep until she was finished.

That Sunday afternoon, she unblinkingly went over everything she had accomplished, made a general schedule for when she was supposed to read everything she needed to read, out all her papers in the proper folders in her school bag, and laid down on her bed.

xxx

Severus hadn't seen anybody study like Hermione did since he was her age. She sat on a pillow in a corner behind the piano, with papers and school supplies sitting in a circle around her, scribbling away, only pausing to consult a book or go fetch one from his shelves or the Library.

To his knowledge she had not slept the entire weekend, and the first night he became worried. When he had come out of his rooms looking for her (her side of the bed hadn't been touched) she was in the same spot he'd left her, hair in disarray, same clothes, ink splattered on her cheeks and hands, diligently doing Arithmancy calculations on a large sheet. She hadn't blinked the entire time he watched her.

When she was obviously about to switch over to something else, he had stolen her away to the couch, not without a struggle, and ordered her a plate of breakfast from the House Elves; no matter how hard she worked, or how wonderful her grades may be, he would not allow her to let her own body fall into disrepair like he had. After he was satisfied that she had eaten and drank plenty to last until the next time he would be able to get her to do the same thing, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her still.

"Let me go, I ate like you wanted, I have to get back over there so I can to History of Magic!"

"No, Hermione, you need to take a break, even if it's just a short one. Cramming like this isn't good for your brain, and after not sleeping you need to let your body rest."

She apparently saw some sense in his logic, and slumped against him for a bit while he magically cleaned the ink off her skin. For good measure, he also cast a cleansing charm on the rest of her, just so she wouldn't have to take two showers when she was done.

Before he released her, he kissed her on the brow. "Don't push yourself too hard. You're only human."

She shook her head, grinning, and went right back to the cushion.

He was relieved to have found her in bed Sunday night after Dinner, albeit in the same clothes she wore Friday evening, and remembered the adamant inquiries of her friends before he was able to make it down the stairs.

"Professor Snape, is Hermione alright? She's done this crazy workaholic thing every Christmas Holiday since our fifth year," the female Weasley had asked, Potter and her brother present.

"She will be fine, I expect she should have finished soon after I left. I have successfully forced her to eat five times, when she wasn't trying to hex me into leaving her alone."

They all nodded, Ginny grinning at her friends habits, and left.

Hermione was now deeply asleep sprawled on the bed, quiet snores drifting out of her slightly parted lips. She looked haggard, deep dark rings beneath her eyes, and absolutely exhausted.

Severus quickly changed her clothes, casting another cleansing charm on her person (and in her mouth) before he covered her up from the chill of the dungeons and put her shoes where they belonged.

"You're absolutely crazy," he whispered, almost smiling to himself as he swiped her curly hair from her forehead.

The following luncheon, Hermione finally crept up from the Dungeons to join everyone else around the large table (Dumbledore at the Head) for soup. There was an extra chair beside him (he'd glared at Potter, who was late, daring him to sit in one of the two which had been empty at the time) and she plopped into it.

"Good afternoon. Had plenty of sleep?" he asked, putting in an order for coffee the way she liked it and handed her the prophet she read every morning.

Some of the students stared at their familiar behavior, but he ignored them.

"Plenty enough for now," she replied, gladly drinking the warm caffeinated beverage, finishing it at once.

"Hey Hermione, haven't seen you in a while. Finished all your homework then?" Potter said conversationally.

"Yeah, finally; three whole rolls of parchment front and back."

Minerva almost spat out her tea.

"All together, not just for you Professor!" she said quickly, noting the older woman's alarm.

"No, dear, you're telling me that you finished _all _your break homework _in three days_?"

Now the rest of the table that was in earshot was listening, Professors included. Draco Malfoy was a little ways down the table, looking incredulous. He had fewer Classes than she did, and probably hadn't even started.

"Yes," Hermione replied timidly.

"_Severus Snape, are you telling me you let her stay up and work __**this whole time**_?"

Severus flinched. The whole table was listening now.

"She was made to eat, drink, and take breaks, what more do you want from me? She went to sleep around seven last night, that's sixteen hours of sleep! And she's still alive to tell the tale, don't-"

"_I ought to skin you alive-_"

"Professor, he's not lying. She's done this for two years now, Ginny, Neville, Ron, and me _put together_ were lucky to get her to eat three times. And even then she wouldn't take any breaks," Potter supplied, to Severus' chagrin and Hermione's relief.

Hermione's face was quite red now, and she was hiding her face behind her hand.

"I'm fine, really, please just let it go."

Minerva was still a bit miffed, but Severus wasn't about to let it slide.

Hermione got up to leave. "I need to go check on-"

"No you don't," he replied plainly, grabbing her by the back of her shirt and sitting her back down in the seat. "You're going to eat and read and drink and do whatever else it is that you do at lunch."

"But I don't _want_-"

"Don't take that line with me, even your groggy, jaded brain knows you _need_ to."

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Because it's my job. Well, that and keeping you alive as long as possible, because if you die from self neglect trying to study too hard for N.E.W.T's, that every last person in here knows you could very well make perfect scores on right now in your sleep, and I have to marry the likes of _Dolores Umbridge_ or someone equally awful because of this _bloody law_, _I will promptly commit suicide, follow you to the Great Beyond, and ensure you're made to be in agony for the rest of Eternity Heaven or Hell be damned. Am. I. Clear?_" he asked her, eyebrows raised.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good. Now, eat," he commanded, shoved her fork back into her hand, and stole the Prophet to read.

xxx

The rest of the table slowly came out of their shock and began to make conversation again.

"Well then," was all Harry could say, and returned to his lunch.

The soup and grilled sandwiches were wonderful, but Hermione ate with a dour countenance.

Minerva was now whispering to Dumbledore (whose beard was thrown over his shoulder like a tie), and Severus was hiding behind the paper, obviously not in any mood to continue.

_Does he really think he'll have to marry Umbridge if I die? _She wondered, sipping her soup.

It was only a few days until Christmas, and all four houses of 7th years banded together on an in-school field trip to all the accessible rooms in the castle. Severus and Minerva insisted on accompanying them ("Who knows what inappropriate foolishness they could get up to!" she had exclaimed).

They had been in Trelawney's stuffy old coop, and were down to the seventh floor by lunch. They all talked amicably, even the Slytherins, and had sandwiches.

"Hey, Gran-Snape, did you really finish all your work over the weekend?" Pansy Parkinson asked.

"Yeah," Hermione replied somewhat warily. It had taken her a moment to realize _she_ was the Snape in question. "All except the reading."

"Which classes are you taking, anyhow?" Blaise Zabini wondered. Hermione didn't think she'd ever heard her tall, dark skinned classmate speak before.

"Arithmancy, History of Magic, Defense, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, and Magical Theory," she replied, numbering them off on her fingers.

"So you're undecided, then?" Ernie Macmillan exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah, everybody expects me to have my whole life planned out before me, and I've got no clue what I want to do. There's the war, and I've married earlier than I expected, so I'm mostly waiting to see how things pan out after I leave so I'll decide then."

"Wait, know-it-all Snape doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up?" Malfoy butted in.

"No, not really. If Voldemort wins," the name earned many flinches and a glare from Severus, "then I'll either be dead or enslaved, so there'll be no worries about what I have to do, but with the chance Lightning over here," she gestured to Harry sitting next to her, "wins, I guess I might do something at Hogwarts assuming Severus is still teaching then. I might commute and do something out of Hogsmeade, or London, but I just don't know."

"You could be a librarian, you've always loved books," Neville pointed out.

"Yeah, Pince is looking into retirement," whispered Seamus.

"Well, I don't know, what are all of you thinking about doing?" she asked, trying to get eyes off of her.

"I'm thinking about doing something in Herbology, maybe take over Professor Sprout's position when she decides to retire," Neville said somewhat sheepishly.

"Definitely cosmetics, _if _I'll even need a job," Pansy told them haughtily.

"I'll probably try and be an Auror," Harry said uncertainly.

"Same for me," Ron chipped in.

"I'd like to see what being an Unspeakable is all about. A cousin of mine joined them, he says he can't talk about what he's doing but it sounds like my kind of gig," Blaise said indifferently.

"Of course, with my father's money, I won't need to work unlike you lot," Malfoy sneered.

"Hush, you," Hermione quipped, noting he had ignored Ernie about to speak.

"Thanks, Hermione. I've recently been sharing some quite promising letters with an independent potions brewery looking for graduate students with at least an E in their Potions N.E.W.T. I'm almost guaranteed at least that if my grade in Potions is any account, so things are looking promising!"

"Wow Ernie, that's great! … I actually hadn't even thought about looking into anything yet, I wonder if there's any in the Jobs column in the _Prophet_?" Hannah Abbot said, now returning from the bathroom to sit next to Ernie.

Hermione thought about it. _I should probably talk to Severus about a job I suppose before I go making any decisions. _

They continued their nostalgic tour after everyone was done eating and finished all the way from the sixth floor to the very last dead end in the lowest dungeons, which held torches that looked not to have been lit in a while.

"Severus, how far under the school _are_ we? I lost count of the flights of stairs quite a ways back," Minerva asked, looking around the ancient stonework covered in half frozen grime. Everybody's breath came out in great puffs of white, which clouded their vision in the yellow light of the flames.

"There's no telling. Last week this dead end was pointing east and now, if I'm not mistaken," he said drawing his wand and casing 'point me', "it's pointing south. The floor plan of this place is impossible, it changes every week if not every day," he said, suddenly reaching out and tapping a few blocks of rock with his wand.

A portal opened in the east, and a winding damp path sloped upwards.

"Back to the Great Hall then, I suppose?" he asked, and when an agreement was reached, they all adjourned through the odd tunnel and popped out of a hole which was beneath a tree on a hill at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"What?" Ron so eloquently asked, looking around in confusion.

"Happens," Severus commented as he passed, leading the lot of them back to the castle.

Once they were within, Professor Gamp ran up to them, out of breath and a look of horror plastered on her face.

"Someone's set fire to the fifth floor."

**A/N**: After that nice little plot device, it's Music Time! Some of this music obviously doesn't have to do with this chapter in particular, but I'll put them in for different parts. Use them as you wish!

All the Right Moves- OneRepublic

Sextet (Trailer Piece) from Cloud Atlas the Motion Picture

Winterspell- Two Steps from Hell

Where Is My Mind (Piano Cover)- The Pixies (Maxence Cyrin)

The Truth- Audio Machine

Creep- Radiohead

Animal- Neon Trees  
Flesh and Bone- The Killers

Demons- Imagine Dragons


End file.
